


It's An Air Affair!

by kiisuumii (lonesomeweeb)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Love, Other, i'll edit these later eventually, random AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-03-25 10:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3806350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonesomeweeb/pseuds/kiisuumii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p><br/>✩haikyuu!! reader insert collection✩</p>
  <p>【hers - kuuro tetsurou】<br/>【for the better - oikawa tooru】<br/>【daisy - hinata shouyou】<br/>【fourth grade - sugawara koushi】<br/>【sprouted. - oikawa tooru】<br/>【tonight - azumane asahi】<br/>【in her wake - tsukishima kei】<br/>【colorful - bokuto koutarou】<br/></p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	1. hers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _You loved him, but he was hers by law._  
> 
> _【Tetsurou Kuroo x Reader】_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an assignment I had to do so forgive me for any grammatical errors or if first person pronouns are used!!

The feel of his fingertips grazing your skin ever so slowly drove you close to madness. The way he would touch you so teasingly raised bumps on your arms and legs as a sigh of satisfaction that you had been trying to keep in so desperately almost escaped your lips. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that you enjoyed his soft caresses against your thighs and the gentle kisses he'd leave on your neck, his lips lingering for long seconds.

He placed one of those kisses you enjoyed so much onto the back of your hand, your legs intertwining under the sheets as your bodies pressed against each other's as much as possible. The feel of his skin against yours almost felt surreal, as if you were dreaming at that moment. The way he gazed at you with deep, onyx eyes made words escape you. Just the shade of brown the dawn sunlight filtering through the curtains made his eyes shine could have been enough to make your heart pound excessively. Those dark eyes, as dark as the blanket of night, said a thousand words to you.

"You're beautiful," his eyes seemed to say. "No one else compares."

Your hand found its way to the side of his face and cupped his cheek as you brought your lips to his. You gave him a chaste kiss but long enough to tell him you loved him without speaking. You loved him, with all of your being. You wanted to show him how much you did, through star gazings and picnicks and movie nights. You wanted him to know that you wanted him to be yours.

His phone began buzzing on the nightstand behind him. He turned to pick it up as you turned your back to him. You knew who it was; there was no denying that she'd get worried about him. He hadn't been home that night, as he'd been with you, so of course, any loving wife would get worried. You listened to him talk to her then, how he told her that he was all right, that he had decided to stay at you apartment, talking about you as if you were just a friend. But in reality, that was all you were to him and to her– just his old, high school friend.

"I'll be home soon," he told her, and you could feel your heart clench at the sound of 'soon.'

You wanted to tell him not to leave. You wanted to roll back around to face him, wrap you arms around him, and whisper, "Don't leave so soon." But you knew he had to go; you knew what his wife was like. You were her best friend, so of course, you knew. But maybe she'd changed. It had been two years since their wedding that you had ever spoken to her. She never knew how you felt. You only forced the best, most sincere-looking smile you could muster and tell her with all the energy you had that you were happy for her. Maybe she still worried about things too much, just as she had when you were feigning congratulation to her. Maybe she'd learned to let go a little. Who knew? You didn't.

"She's worried about me," he groaned, the rustle of the sheets and the creaking of the bed springs indicating that he was going to leave.

Quickly, almost panicking, searching in your brain for a way to make him stay even just a couple more minutes, you turned back around to face him and grabbed ahold of his arm. You wrapped your arms around it, wishing that that tan, muscular arm was the one to wake you up every morning, snake its way around your waist while you cook, hug you when you needed comforting. You wished so badly that he didn't have to go. You could feel your eyes start to sting as you buried your face as best as you could in the crook of his elbow, but your tears never sprang forth.

"Please don't go, Kuroo. Just a couple more minutes, please," you whispered, trying your best to hide the fact that you were so desperate for him.

"Sorry, I have to," he started, chuckled slightly. "She'd kill me if I didn't show."

And you knew then that she was still the same, and you loosened your grip around his arm. He pulled away, changing back into the clothes you had slowly, painstakingly stripped off him the night before. You watched his movements from where you sat in the middle of the King-sized bed, amidst the sheets you had lied in just moments prior. Your body fell onto the mattress, your head coming in contact with the pillow his head was resting on. The cologne he wore and his natural scent punched you, both in your stomach and your heart. You ached to wake up to that scent every morning and fall asleep to it every night. You felt your eyes prick with tears once more as you watched him begin to exit the bedroom.

"I'll see you around," he said as he waved goodbye. 

You waved back until he was out of side. It wasn't until you heard the click of the opening of the apartment door and the shutting of it that the tears you had been holding back began to roll down your cheeks and nose. You reached for the sheets and wrapped them around your frame, burying yourself in the lingering scent of what he and you were. Tears kept streaming and sobs, and eventually wails, escaped your lips. You knew from the beginning; you knew from the moment they looked at each other, they wouldn't ever leave one another, for what ever reason, despite anything that they would ever go through. And you knew he loved her– he definitely cared for her– but somehow, though knowing, you managed to find yourself in pain, getting yourself acquainted with the pain of being used like that by him and yet longing for him. You were his, and you so desperately wanted him to be yours. But you knew then, as you lied in your tear-soaked sheets, and you know now, that he won't ever be yours because he's already hers.

 


	2. for the better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _“I’m sorry, Oikawa, but I can’t hep but think that things would be better…”_
> 
>  
> 
> _【Oikawa Tooru x Reader】_  
> 

He wasn’t expecting this. He wasn’t expecting it, not from you– definitely not from you. You were everything to him; he’d be nothing without you. He couldn’t believe that you were going to leave him. After all those nights staying up late with you to imagine and plan out your future together, he certainly didn’t see this coming. He didn’t. He couldn’t. It wasn’t in his nature. He was too innocent and self-absorbed to see that maybe, just _maybe_ , you might leave him.

“I’m sorry, Oikawa.”

When did you ever start calling him that? It was always Tooru or Trashkawa or Assikawa if you wanted to tease him. It was never _Oikawa_ , with a sour look on your face. He hated being called by his family name by you.

You stood at the entrance of his apartment, the door wide open. You had your suitcase in tow, your grip around its handle tight and your eyes glued to the wooden flooring. He didn’t want to hear what you were about to say next. He was afraid, so so so afraid. So very afraid. He wished you were going to take back everything you said earlier and tell him that it was a mistake and that you weren’t leaving. He wanted you to release your suitcase, or at least hand it to him, and hug him tightly, telling him you loved him with all of your heart and that you couldn’t possibly leave him.

“I can’t help but think that things would be better, that everything would actually work out, if I weren’t with you,” you said so quietly, you practically whispered.

Tooru wanted to say something back, but he couldn’t. He had tears streaking down his face, and his words were caught in his throat as if tangled in an unescapable net, chained and locked with no key. He opened his mouth, but only sobs escaped his chapped, pale lips. His red, already irritated and puffy eyes produced even more tears, despite his thinking that he couldn’t cry anymore than he had. He wanted to beg you not to leave him. He wanted to tell you that he needed you. So badly.

“Good bye, Oikawa.”

_No! Don’t go! Please!!_

As he witnessed your form turning and stepping outside his apartment, his arm was outstretched, reaching for your wrist. Upon contact, his slender fingers wrapping around your wrist, you had turned and your eyes had met, his puffy, caramel eyes looked into your (e/c) ones seeing how dismayed you’d become and how it looked as if you were begging him to make her stay, but he knew, though he probably wouldn’t admit it, that you were only leaving for the best for the two of you– for his volleyball career, mostly, and to avoid future pain because you knew he would become so engrossed in volleyball that he’d come to ignore you all together.

“I’m sorry, Oi–“

“Stop calling me that!” He screamed, shocking the both of you. He released his grip on your wrist, removed your hand from the suitcase, and snaked his arms around you. “When did you ever start calling me that? When did I ever want you to call me that? Even to the end, I still want you to call me Tooru, even if you decide to leave. But I don’t want you to leave. Not now, not ever.”

Silence fell onto the scene. He buried his face into your shoulder, taking in how sweet you smelled, despite breaking his heart. Silent tears rolled from the corner of his eyes onto the fabric of your shirt.

“I’m sorry, Tooru,” you choked out, tears of your own welling in your eyes. “I really am, but I’m just looking out for the both of us.”

You wriggled out of his grasp, like water through fingers. You picked grabbed onto your suitcase once more, heading out the door without looking back. “We can still be friends, though,” was the last thing you told him before walking down cobble stone steps as he fell to his knees watching the best person to ever walk into his life leave it.


	3. daisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _She loves me, she loves me not._
> 
>  
> 
> _【Hinata Shouyou x Reader】_  
> 

Hinata picked the daisy from the vase, twisting its stem between his thumb and index finger. The waxy texture of the stem felt smooth, but not as smooth as her skin he felt as they brushed past each other at the bookstore many times on different occasions. The sunlight that came in through the window illuminated the daisy’s petals and its yellow core. When he looked at the daisy, and each and every time he saw the flower, he only thought of her; her eyes just as bright at the petals, her hair as shiny as the waxy stem, and her personality as bright as the yellow pollen.  

He sighed, but the sound of his despair would never reach her. His fingers left the stem and moved to the silk petals, feeling the urge to pluck one and play that silly game he used to as a child. _She loves me, she loves me not._ The sound of that phrase made his heart ache with the inevitable disappointment but his stomach churn in anticipation. He wanted to, but he didn’t want to know the outcome. What if she did love him? What is she loved him not? Besides, a game of plucking petals surely wouldn’t determine her feelings for him, he knew. But it didn’t hurt to try, would it? He could feel his fingers begin to pull on the first petal, his urge growing stronger. Finally, the petal came off without a sound or effort. 

“She loves me,” he whispered into the autumn breeze that came in. His fingers moved to the next petal; he was still afraid of the outcome, but even if it was a stupid game that didn’t determine anything, he wanted to know horribly. The way his eyes and eyebrows slanted downwards was evidence enough that he was afraid and aching. He tugged on the petal his fingers held in between them slightly, and it fell into his hand. He closed his hand into a loose fist, brought it out the window, and released the petal sheathed in his hand into the outside.

“She loves me not,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. Maybe this wasn’t a wise choice, but he wanted to continue. He didn’t know why he wanted to continue torturing himself with the thought of her and never having her. He brought his hand back to the white petals, taking a moment to brush his fingertips along all of them, savoring their silky feel to try and force different thoughts or memories into his head. But it didn’t work, and his fingers ended at the next petal that was meant to be pulled from its base. He plucked it and tossed it into the open. 

“She loves me.”

It went on like that, ripping a petal from the flower and whispering to himself like a madman. And he was a madman for ever doing that, for ever falling in love with a woman who couldn’t possibly return his feelings. Soon enough, tears threatened to spill from his eyes as thoughts of her and his own pain and every good and bad thing in between swirled in his head until his head began to hurt slightly. Finally, he came to the last two petals.

Unconsciously, he plucked the second-to-last one and said monotonously, “She loves me not.” Then taking the last petal in his fingers, he paused as realization hit him. His face lit up, and he could feel his lips curl slightly upwards. Hope filled his barren heart that desperately needed it. His stomach began to churn again, but not in anticipation, in happiness and butterflies that flittered inside. So many emotions coursed throughout himself, in his veins, and the pain in his head began to fade, being replaced with a lightness. He tugged on the petal and it smoothly came off and was tossed where the other petals were.

“She loves me,” he said in disbelief. “She loves me!” He said again just to feel how good it sounded again. He needed to hear it again, even if it may not be true. “She loves me!!” What are the odds of such a lucky flower?

 


	4. fourth grade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
> _He left without a trace in year 4, but yet, here he is, following you on tumblr._
> 
>  
> 
> _【Sugawara Koushi x Reader】_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I know that year 4 and 4th grade are probably two different things (/-(ｴ)-＼)  
> I'm just too lazy to change it lol

In the middle of the night, lying in bed as the light emanating from your phone screen blinded you, you were unable to fall asleep, so you occupied yourself with the blogging website Tumblr. You scrolled through your dashboard, thinking to yourself how dead it had become. Scarcely reblogging posts here and there, you had received a notification popping up from the bottom of the phone’s screen, peeking its head out and leaving as quickly as it came. You had caught a glimpse of it; it was a notification telling you that you’d just received a new follower. Not seeing the blogger’s icon-- or rather, it not loading-- you clicked on the lightning bolt tab to view the notification amongst the list of others.

His, assuming from the icon which was a picture of a silver-headed male, blog was called sugadaddy, which sounded extremely weird and uncomfortable but also rather curious. It certainly peaked your curiosity as you wondered where in the hell he managed to come up with such a url. Clicking on the blog’s url, you were directed to it. Its title was “Volleyballs Everywhere,” which was also quite odd. You read his description, and in the quiet of the night, your hand found its way to cover your mouth as you gasped. His name was Koushi, Sugawara Koushi.

It dawned on you now where he had gotten his url, but it also dawned on you that his name was familiar. He shared the name with a crush you had in fourth grade. You didn’t know why you still remembered that, considering you were now in high school. Thinking back to fourth grade, you recalled your crush, whom was also silver-haired. You remembered that freckle under his eye that every girl you came across that year loved. His caramel eyes melted girls’ legs, leaving them feeling like banana mush. Not only was he cute, but all the girls wished they had a friend, at least, with the same personality he had. Kind, funny, weird, and calming were traits everyone longed for, and the boys in the grade were even jealous of Sugawara.

Then he moved away, without getting too close to anyone, without leaving a single trace as to where or why he went. All the girls who were going to confess to him the next year were dismayed, their chances slipping through their fingers. You were one of those girls, though you wouldn’t readily admit to it if asked. You wanted to confess, so as to relieve yourself of the burden of emotions, but were unable to, due to pride; thinking about it, cringing, and groaning in your bed, you shifted to slap yourself in the face. Back then, in fourth grade, you didn’t want to be like the other girls.

“I was so gross back then,” you mumbled, realizing how stupid it was to not want to be “mainstream.”

You looked back to the doppleganger Sugawara’s blog. This Suga sure did look a lot like the one in fourth grade. And the thought did cross your mind, that the one whom had just followed you was the same, but it was so improbable. Perhaps inboxing him and asking wouldn’t hurt, you reasoned as you went to his ask.

_Hi, uh, where did you go to school in 4th grade??? bc I knew a Sugawara Koushi in 4th grade and you look like him and ye_

You made sure to ask it anonymously because you didn’t have the strength to send it off anon. It felt embarrassing just asking, but you needed to know. And now you needed to wait. In the meantime, you decided to follow him back, seeing as though he’s probably online and could liven up your dash a little. You went back to it and saw that he hasn’t even reblogged anything since the time he followed you, but other people had. So you resumed your scrolling and refreshing until, a couple refreshes later, he answered the anonymous ask.

_I went to Yujin Gakuen for year 4 but moved out to a different school in year 5_

His answer left you dazed. It was him… It really was! It was the same Sugawara Koushi of Yujin that everyone loved! Once again, your hand was covering your grinning mouth as breathy laughs escaped. You couldn’t believe it. You really couldn’t.

But then you realized, does he even remember you? You never really spoke to him at Yujin, but you were in his class. But that doesn’t mean that he would remember you, does it? You sighed, scolding yourself mentally at how foolish you were. You contemplated responding to him, but then again, you might say something stupid… You sighed again. Might as well respond, you thought, going back to his ask.

_You are! You are Suga from Yujin! You’re the Suga that everyone loved!_

You read over it and over it and over it. Again and again. You didn’t want to send that, but at the same time, you wanted to. You wanted to continue the conversation. You wanted to know if he remembered you. You hit send, your heart failing you at that moment. It beat hard and fast, and you felt sick to your stomach. What would he say to it? You waited a few moments to refresh your dash, wondering how long it would take. Apparently, it didn’t take long as his answer appeared on your dash.

_So you went to Yujin too? You should send me a kik or something. Maybe I know you, unless you weren’t in year 4 the year I was_

Reading the response, you took a minute to grin and squeal. Then you remembered that you didn’t have a kik. But wasting no time, you went to the App Store and downloaded the messaging app. It took you a minute to think of a username, knowing that you didn’t want to regret it later and needing a decent sounding one so you don’t make a weird impression on Sugawara. Deciding on psychumen because you couldn’t think of anything good for you life, you headed back to Sugawara’s ask and typed in your user on anon, hitting send.

You wondered if he would send something, staring at his blog and his icon and the light emanating from your phone’s screen almost blinding you. You realized how much he’d grown just by looking at his picture. He’d grown handsome, more mature-looking, before his being very cutesy. You wondered if he’d found a significant other, if he’d found someone who made him happy. Of course, you’d be happy for him, but you couldn’t deny that inkling of despair that you know you would feel if you found out he did.

You didn’t receive a message after ten minutes, nor was he active on his blog. You concluded that he’d fallen asleep, signalling you needed to probably go to sleep as well. You locked your phone, the light dissipating and leaving your room dark. You turned in bed, the position you were previously in leaving your side sore. Your phone laid on the nightstand besides your bed. You closed your eyes, hoping to be able to finally fall asleep.


	5. sprouted.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> __
> 
> _A plants shop across the street run by a setter and team captain._
> 
> _【Oikawa Tooru x Reader】_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a picture of flower/garden shop owner!Oikawa drawn by http://flunflun.tumblr.com/ !! ~<3

She took the same route to and from school everyday, through a quite busy shopping district because she loved the commotion and the different things the shops sold everyday, especially her favorite café there. She always stopped by after school when she had time, which was most days. If she were asked, she’d say that their cakes, which she could tell were folded with the love of the pâtissier with every bite of the light pastries, were unbeatable.

The bell above the door chimed, followed by a warm, “Welcome!” from the staff, she stepped in the small eatery and approached the cashier. She peered into the display case, wondering what she should decide to enjoy today. She placed a finger on her chin and hummed and turned to the cashier, whom she’d known ever since she’d first stepped foot into the café years ago.

“What do you recommend, Atsushi?” (Y/n) asked the lazed cashier.

He blew through his nose, nibbling on a cookie. “Try something with strawberries. They’re in season, so they’ll be pretty tasty,” he just barely mumbled through his cookie. And he was right; it was February, and they were in season.

“All right then! I’ll take a slice of strawberry shortcake!” She proclaimed, unable to withhold her excitement, eager to taste the vanilla and sweet strawberries and cream.

He hummed in response, pulling himself off of his chair where he’d already grown comfortable in. She smiled at the sight; the lazy giant practically dragged himself from where he sat to the display case, drawing out each movement. But he knew better than to keep customer’s waiting, “especially a regular!” he could hear his senior yell at him. Setting the piece of cake on the counter with extreme grace, despite his size, he punched in numbers on the cash register and called out the price. (Y/n) paid for her cake and took it with a fork to a table besides the window that gave view of the shopping district outside.

More focused on her cake, though, she unboxed the slice, fork in hand. The cream that coated the slice seemed to glisten, perhaps from a sugar-syrup that was originally for coating the small strawberry that had been cut and fanned across the cake’s surface. It’s too beautiful to even eat, (Y/n) thought, unable to bring herself to sink her fork into it. Knowing, though, that the cake held a deliciousness that she had been hoping to taste after a long day of school, she reluctantly brought herself to pierce the smooth cream and light cake. She brought a bite to her mouth and through her teeth, her lips closing around the cake and plastic fork. She pulled the fork from between her lips and swished the cake’s sweetness around her mouth, the cake dancing on her tongue as proof of her light the cake truly was.

The slightly sourness of the strawberries was the flavor to hit her last, leaving her feeling refreshed and not overwhelmed, despite how rich you would expect a cake full of eggs and milk to be. She let a sigh of satisfaction escape her mouth, her eyes almost misty as she rested her chin in her palm. She continued to eat the delightful slice one bite at a time, savoring each bite and letting it last.

“Man,” she sighed once more, one last bite left in the container. “I wish I had someone to share this with, to show them how delicious this cake is,” she mumbled to herself, peering to her right, out into the crowd of people in the shopping district.

Across the café was a peculiar shop, one that no one would see in a normal shopping district. Across the café was a plants shop. Their windows and front entrance were open, despite the cold weather. A man was watering plants with a calm smile on his face, as if he were being spoken sweet words of gratitude by every plant he’s watered. The world seemed so at peace then, (Y/n) enjoying some cake and the man watering his plants.

She stood up from her seat, taking her trash to the nearest bin. She called out a “thank you!” to not only Atsushi, but also the chef in the back, knowing he’d hear her. She exited the café, the bell signaling her departure. She’d never been inside that plants shop, and she decided back at her seat inside the café that she’d go. Nearing the small shop, she’d taken notice of the plants and how healthy they looked.

“Someone sure is taking good care of them,” she said, smiling at the fruit of the shop owner’s labor.

She also had taken notice of the shop’s name. On a wooden plaque hanging from the front entrance was the name Oikawa in all lowercase, Romanized letters.

“Oikawa?” She was confused, yet curious. Wasn’t that…? “Huh, I didn’t think he of all people would own a plants shop… 

She stepped inside stiffly, gazing around the shop. At anything that caught her eye, she’d stare at it, especially the flowers. There were alstromerias, delphimiums, hydrangeas, irises, and various other flowers planted in pots everywhere. It was surprising to see such a wild amount of flowers for such a small shop. Of course, there weren’t only flowers but also various vegetables, herbs, and cacti. The shop’s interior, littered with different types of plants, was, as an understatement, enchanting. It kept (Y/n) mesmerized until an employee brought her back to her senses.

“Do you need any help looking for something in particular?” He asked very happily.

She turned around to face the employee, ready to tell him that she was only browsing, but somehow, the words that she’d formed in her head only came out in a sputter. That employee was none other than the third-year she was thinking of earlier, Oikawa Tooru.

“I-I’m just browsing!” She cried out in embarrassment as her hands in front of her began to wave frantically. She was unsure of why she was embarrassed herself, only adding to it.

He gave her his signature smile, the one he’d give to all the girls. “All right! If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to come to me,” he informed her.

(Y/n) nodded and quickly scurried away, less he’d see her cheeks flushed a slight red. She wondered, though, what could have brought on her sudden nervousness around her senior. Perhaps it was because he was a year above her. Perhaps it was because he had many admirers. Perhaps it was because she was secretly one of them.

Yes, it was definitely that. She had feelings for the volleyball player, and the sign out front that displayed his name had only reminded her of them. And there, she wanted to shake them off, especially after accidentally eavesdropping on his rejecting another girl earlier that day. Since then, she’d wanted to get over him as quickly as possible because she knew that she wouldn’t be able to reach the boy whom was far away from her.

Her eyes scanned the shop; there were so many beautiful plants. She really wondered if Oikawa was the one who took care of them. Perhaps this would be her chance to talk to him! Her shoulders suddenly jolted up at the grand idea but soon slumped back down, realizing that she had already decided to get over the boy. But she contemplated, unsure if that was what she really wanted, since she’d admired him from afar for quite a long time now.

Her hands found their way around each other as they pressed against her chest. She gazed down at a potted plant, her eyebrows furrowed. She was in a predicament. Would she betray her feelings? Or go with them, despite the chance that he might never return them. 

“Um, excuse me?”

She snapped her head up and around, to face whomever was behind her.

“Are you all right?” Oikawa asked, concerned for the girl. She nodded, though she felt the opposite.

“Well, even if you really are okay, you should surround yourself in happiness, you know?” He started, smiling ever so sweetly. “So here,” he pushed the potted gardenia in his hands towards (Y/n), “take this. They symbolize and indicate a lot of things, but they convey joy. It’s kind of like I’m sending you happy vibes, you know?” His smile turned into a sheepish grin as she took the pot from his hands.

She stared at the plant in astonishment. Then she looked up at Oikawa, whom was beaming. “Is it really okay for me to just take it..?”

He nodded. “It’s on the house. Well, actually, I’m just gonna put my money in the register. So technically I’m paying for it.”

“I can’t just take it then!” She yelped.

He shook his head. “It’s all right, really,” he reassured her, silencing her.

“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” she mumbled, hiding her eyes from his as she stared down at the flower.

“Don’t mention it. I just don’t like seeing cute girls like you all down.”

(Y/n)’s eyes widened, a smile slowly spreading onto her lips at the boy’s compliment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A second part is up for debate ✰
> 
> Also I hope someone noticed a reference I decided to slip in there at the beginning ~ ♥︎


	6. tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _He wanted so much more than just_ this. 
> 
> _【Azumane Asahi x Reader】_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  Warning!! This work has sexual content!!!
> 
> This was inspired by this prompt: "The fire in your eyes is the only thing I need to keep me warm." Though I did tweak the prompt a bit in the story ^^  
> Also, I tried to be as gender neutral as possible, so if you see any gendered pronouns or anything (except for the clutch purse because I already realized it) please tell me!

He knew it was only for the night, until the sun peaked its head over the horizon to color the sky in pinks and oranges, the darkness receding. Or until you wanted to get up and slip on your tight clothes again after a couple hours, after opening your clutch purse to retrieve the amount you needed to pay, handing it to him in the darkness with only the light emanating from your phone to illuminate what you needed to see, after a devilish smile and another “I’ll see you again,” and the opening and closing of the door. He knew it was only for one night, but after one night after one night after another, the way you moaned became more than just that of a client’s. Your hisses and heavy breaths spurred him on, making his heart beat and his hips thrust faster.

The way his name sounded on your tongue was what hurt him, though.

He would never hear it outside the four walls of a bedroom. Never in a lovingly tone early in the morning when the smell of maple bacon and the sound of sizzling eggs wafted through the house. Never in a whine or laugh. Just in pleasure for the night and the nights that come afterward, until you grew tired of him and decided to try out his coworkers. He never wanted to see the day you’d leave him for Daichi next door.

The door opened with a creak, the sunset entering his room, revealing objects and corners that were once cloaked in darkness. The light shone around you giving you that goddessly glow that made Asahi sit up in his bed to get a better view, his mouth gaping in awe. You closed the door as soon as you stepped into the room, the light leaving as soon as it came to darken the room once more. And though the halo surrounding you had disappeared, he continued to awe at you, his eyes uncontrollably taking in your beauty and his gaze stopping to lurk around your just visible face.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit cold in here?” You had asked, oblivious to his stares, as you removed your heels and left them at the door.

_The fire in my eyes is the only thing you’ll need to keep yourself warm._

He wanted to say it, how much he desired you on more than just the sexual and physical level. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. So badly. Too badly. But you didn’t want him as much, as you’d already had what you wanted.

Feigning a lecherous smirk. “No, not really, but if you’re cold, I’ll be sure to warm you up,” he’d growled, motioning for you to come closer to him.

He wanted to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, to press you against his large body and have his arms around your smaller figure. How he didn’t want it to just be peeling clothes and peppering kisses between your legs and hickeys and tight grips that would form bruises the next morning night after night. How he didn’t want it to just end after he heard the snap of your clutch and the creaking of the door opening and closing.

Your legs rested on side of his lap, straddling him with your arms wrapped around his neck and eyes that told him that this was all you wanted from him. He pressed his lips to yours ever so softly at first but soon applied more force because he knew that that was all you wanted. His hands roamed your body as they had so many times before, so many times before that he’s practically memorized where every dip and curve was. And your hands began to wander as well, running your finger tips down his chest and defined abdomen and to lurk around the waistband of his boxer shorts. You moved your lips away from his, breathing erratic.

“Will you now?” You whispered past the heavy breathing of the two of you, eyes clouded with lust peering into his.

“I,” he started, his hand trailing up your thigh to your ass, “sure will,” he said with a half smile as he gave it a nice, firm squeeze, not wanting to acknowledge that he wanted the night to end already.

Your hand moved even farther down to palm the inhabitant of the tent in his boxers. You hummed as you stroked it painfully slowly through the thin fabric of his shorts. He groaned into the side of your neck, which he decided to preoccupy himself with by sucking and kissing and nibbling bruises for later. “That’s what I want,” you gasped as he quickly sucked on your soft spot.

_But this is not what I want._

He wanted so much more. So much more than just one night.

 


	7. in her wake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Things seemed pointless._
> 
> _【Tsukishima Kei x Reader】_

The fact that she was gone hadn’t rung yet in Kei’s head; things hadn’t clicked. He almost refused to believe that she was gone from everyone’s lives, his most of all; he had convinced himself that it was all a horrible dream, but once the day of her funeral arrived, staring down into the open-casket brought his world down on him, collapsing onto his lungs to the point where he felt he couldn't breathe anymore. Despite that, he appeared to be the normal boy everyone knew him as, stoic and cold and emotionless, save for the frown he always wore, but his heart ached. Seeing her so lifeless, past all the makeup that desperately tried to breathe life back into her, pained him so much that he couldn't stand being up there for more than a few minutes; he quickly left the room to stand in the corridor, sliding to the floor with his head in his hands.

Attempting to live without her smile each day seemed futile. Kei couldn't bring himself to get out of bed some days, even after his family prodded at the boy, asking time after time if he were going to school that day. And on the days he did decide to go to school, he was more silent than ever, unnervingly silent. He skipped practice, because he didn't want to be reminded of when she would accompany him to practice. Oftentimes, he'd be scolded by his seniors for not showing up, but they knew— they understood the deafening emptiness that resounded in his post-her life. She had become his world, a mistake he wished he never made. He returned to practice a week after she died, and Daichi made him work twice as hard to make up for lost time. He was almost thankful for the work because it kept his mind on the burn of exercise rather than the stinging of the wounds she’d left in her wake.

Even months after she was gone, the empty desk she used to occupy screamed at him. It made him wish he had never befriended— later on, fallen in love with— her in the first place. Every day, he seemed to tell himself, “You shouldn’t have gotten attached,” and “I wish I never met her,” because everything seemed to worthless now. His life was bleak, and it scared him because he finally realized that that was how he was living before he’d met her.

 


	8. colorful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
>  _I didn't realize I was missing out on a color so beautiful until I'd met you._
> 
>  
> 
> _【Bokuto Koutarou x Reader】_  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how 'bout an AU where you can't see a certain color, and you can finally see it after you look in your soulmate's eyes for the first time  
> (also it's in bokuto's pov so ye)

I liked my life; I liked it even before I’d met her. But once she stepped foot into the gym, late at night, while I was practicing with Akaashi, Kuroo, and Tsukishima-kun, everything around me started to take on the color of her eyes, and everything seemed to glow like the smile on her face. She carried in towels and handed them to whoever needed one.

I could remember the way I felt when I first glanced at her; my chest felt so tight, and my lungs were empty of oxygen, and my legs were numb, and the ball had slipped through my fingers. Kuroo tells me my jaw had dropped, but I can’t recall the slightest bit of drool on my lips because I distinctly remember my tongue feeling like someone had fed me sand. I didn’t realize I had been staring until she met my gaze, and it felt like my world... _exploded_.

I didn’t have the courage to talk to her, and she didn’t have the courage to talk to me. It was until we were “locked” (by Kuroo, of course) in the equipment room that we exchanged our first greetings to each other, and somehow, I’d hit it with her. _She found me funny_ , and I couldn’t believe that my dumb jokes, that only Kuroo would like, made her laugh. And her laugh was one that made my bones vibrate with joy; it was something that you could never get tired of hearing. She laughed from the bottom of her heart, heavy and bellowing, howling and breathtaking. It made me laugh along with her.

I spent the rest of the training camp either with her or with her on my mind. Even as I played matches against the other schools, I would always be looking forward to playing Karasuno, and thus, seeing her on the sidelines. I’d wave and shout, look over to her sitting on the benches when I made an impressive spike and she’d give me a grin and a thumbs up. It fired me up. And I didn’t even mind if we lost to the crows, because she’d always console me, patting me on the back, taking my hand in her soft ones. She brought me out of my slumps faster than any of my other teammates could.

And I suppose I got used to how colorful my world had become, because time passed us by and took her away from me. She had to leave Tokyo, and despite not seeing her physically, I was still able to message her, because I’d gotten her phone number. Still, it pained me to see her board her bus and wave goodbye and tell me she’ll she me again one day.

Yes, I liked my life, even before I met her. But I like my life now, with her in it, because things have taken the color of her eyes, a color I’d never seen before until I laid my eyes on her for the first time.


End file.
